Saturday, March 5, 2022
Jon was a gentle soul ready to deliver a bear hug and plant great big lip smacker on my forehead whenever we met, which was not often enough. His love for Ruth and their children and his generosity are my enduring memories of my Parkland time with him; well, those things and an all-nighter we shared ahead of a bike race in the early 70's. A pre-race bicycle tune-up was part and parcel to racing. On this occasion, we were doing the work in Jon's workshop. Wheels were trued, if necessary, chains and gear clusters removed and cleaned, brakes adjusted, hubs and bottom brackets inspected for play and lubrication. Speaking of lubrication, we were drinking a fair amount of beer; Rainier beer, lovingly referred to as "vitamin R". Marijuana may also have been in the mix. We were just about to start to reassemble the bikes when Jon declared that we simply had to repaint the bikes. I remember thinking "Oh fudge" and out loud declared we didn't have enough time. Jon's retort was, "We have all night!" So, strip the bikes we did and used some spray paint he had on hand. In fact, the blue that I see on the frame he was touring within the picture on this site looks familiar. We finished about 3am, got about 4 hours sleep, up at 7a and off to the race. I don't remember where the race was, somewhere in the Tacoma area. We had no real time to ride the course, so to the start line we proceeded and off the race went. It was a criterium style race and seems to me we may have been halfway around when we made a dog leg left turn. I was next to Jon in the pack drafting along when I raised my head to get a look at what was coming on the road ahead. There was a nasty steep hill for which there seemed to be no end. Jon pulled in front of me giving me, a rank beginner with no real talent, a chance to draft him and hang on. It was in that few minutes of relatively calm air behind him that I learned what it meant to be able to be a competent climber. All I could think was this guy is a horse, capable of power that I will only be able to dream of. He dropped me on that hill after a couple laps, but I still relive that time and can still see those thighs and calves pumping like pistons and being in the presence of immense human power. I have thought about Jon many times over the decades. I remember watching the movie "Billy Elliott". There was that moment when on the edge of the stage out of sight with wings on his costume Billy explodes with a leap that seems to carry him to never ending height. I turned to my wife and said "THAT" is Jon Peterson.
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